Chapter Text
What is evil? —Whatever springs from weakness.
悪とは何ですか？ ―弱さから生まれるものなら何でも
— Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche
“You need to run,” Sensei’s voice was strained, but his hands never wavered as he weaved intricate hand signs. She could feel the cursed energy in the air, as tangible as the chakra he was collecting to form his jutsu. Sakura was practically choking on every breath, her lungs constricting as something burned beneath her skin, begging to be released. “Get to the village, make sure Hokage-sama get’s that scroll.”
Her ears were ringing, she couldn’t look away from where Goro lay on the ground, bone jutting from the junction between his shoulder and neck. His chest wasn’t moving, his green tracksuit was darkening, his skin was pale, and his chest wasn’t moving-
“Sakura!” she flinched, green eyes connecting with the milky gaze of her Sensei. She realized, dimly, that the cursed energy wasn’t just coming from the Hyūga across from her, but her too. It was a lot to unpack because for all their Sensei had acted as if he hated the genin assigned to him, the emotions that were ripping through the man were strong enough that Sakura could have raised an army of spirits if it were within her capacity. For all she disliked her loud and brash teammates, her cursed energy was more volatile than even her Sensei’s.
“The mission comes first,” Tokuma snarled the words, and though the veins around his eyes were bulging and there was blood on his lips, Sakura saw the tears that were falling. “Go!”
She wanted to stay, to fight a futile battle and fall with her team. She wanted to be a Hero, like the kind they learned about in the Academy, but there were her ghosts whispering in her ears, urging her to run, run, run, and there was her Sensei with his sad eyes begging her to not make him watch another one of his kids die.
“You have to live.” Sakumo’s voice was solemn, his hand unbearably cold as it passed through her shoulder. “Don’t make my mistakes, go, go, go.”
Sakura took the coward's route, followed orders, and ran.
(But we’re getting ahead of ourselves, aren’t we?)
“Why is mama in there?”
The first memory Sakura can recall from her childhood isn’t of tender hands running through her pink hair, it isn’t of warm affection and loving words. Sakura's first memory is thinking that the sky was too bright for such a horribly sad day. There isn’t a cloud in the sky, the sun shining down on them at the height of Konoha’s summer.
Sakura has never felt colder.
The funeral is a dull affair, not many people show up because the Haruno family are immigrants, and no one likes immigrants and their exotic features and strange behaviors. Back home, Sakura’s mother would have been sent off on a ship her father built himself. Burnt and reclaimed by the waters their homeland worshipped so reverently, while the village gathered as one body to sing their hymns and chant ancient tongues until the sun rose. the sunrise would imprint her mother's first work of art upon the universe and give way to how she would contribute to it every day that followed. Just as they were accustomed to believing that all those who came before her did the same. They would have worn white, not black, and they would have celebrated the life that had been lost by jumping into the ocean at the end of the festival.
As her only daughter and heir, Sakura would have gladly cut her long locks short. She would have scattered her pink hair in the boat and onto the wind so that her mother might take something with her into the other world that would allow her easy passage home during Obon.
But their homeland was long gone, and as immigrants, they had to conform to Konoha's customs. They buried their dead, thick incense burning and releasing heavy plumes of amber-colored smoke around them, and it felt so unnatural that Sakura’s skin itched in a way that made her want to combust.
“They call it a coffin, it is what they bury their loved ones in.” despite the agony of loss her father was faced with, his voice was unbelievably patient. There was a Monk from the Fire Temple watching them with wary eyes. He likely knew the land they hailed from and the Gods they worshipped in their own home's privacy. It was just as likely he knew how it went against every cell in their beings to have someone they loved so deeply buried in the earth and not set free upon rolling azure waves.
The natives of the Land of Fire would have said the sun shining so brightly on the day of a celebration of death would be a blessing. For Kizashi, who knows the weight of rain soaking them to the bone is a blessing of their God, he knows they have truly been forsaken.
“Come, Sakura.”
And because he has this knowledge, he knows he must raise his daughter to be as strong as she can be. This world is cruel, and she will catch no breaks.
(And she doesn’t.)
Sakura is five when her father passes a tanto into her hands. It looks like it’s been commissioned to better suit her small stature, and though she’s never held one before, she’s seen Kizashi hold his enough times to not fumble too much with the new weapon.
“Chichi-ue,” her tone borders on nervousness, though it lacked any true conviction to give a hint that she was actually uncomfortable. “Isn’t this the kinda weapon mama used?”
Her mother had been a big fan of all forms of blades, and both her parents had only been accepted into Kohona’s immigration program because they’d converted to their military ranks. Sakura didn’t really know all the details, just that they had both been out of the house a lot to take what was said to be an unholy amount of assessing tests. It had been six months before they were finished, but when they were, they both had shiny Leaf headbands.
“One of many,” her Chichi amends after a moment's pause. She could remember, before they moved, how his hair had resembled a star. Five points and sideburns that turned into a mustache that used to make Sakura giggle whenever he’d made silly faces at her. After that mission, the left side of Kizashi’s scalp was covered in shiny, albeit jagged, scar tissue. He’d kept the other half cleanly shaven, and after a few awkward days of civilians staring in that way, they did (like they always forget that everything their Shinobi do was for the safety and prosperity of the state they reside within– especially when faced with something they’d traditionally call monstrous.) one of his co-workers had gifted him a bandana to wear.
Sakura made sure to compliment it the first time she’d seen it, if only because she could hear how he cried through the thin walls of their new house. She didn’t want her Chichi to be sad, she didn’t want anyone to be sad, but there was really only so much the young girl could do. So, she endured the intense training schedule– if she could do nothing else, Sakura could endure.
“You remember the kata forms?” his voice, once a burning inferno of warmth, was rather tepid now. Sakura tried not to get too upset about it, she knew that this was a softness no one else saw except for her. “Practice for an hour, then do your laps. I should return by tomorrow, dinner is in the fridge.”
He brushes his hand atop her hair as he walks away, his familiar parting gesture.
Most nights, Sakura dreams of the ocean. She hasn’t seen it, their village was destroyed before Sakura was born, her family taking the title of nomad for many years before finally settling, but she can still feel it calling out to her. She dreams of the crashing waves dragging her down after a current swept her away from land. She dreams of water filling her lungs and the all-consuming darkness of the depths swallowing her whole. Sakura dreams of drowning, and she feels more at peace than any moment she spends awake and landlocked.
Sometimes, she dreams of a storm too. The sky is black as night, stretching on the horizon until she can’t see where it begins and the ocean ends. Lightning flashes illuminate a massive, swirling storm in the distance for the briefest of moments. Waves crash with a vengeance upon the shoreline, and Sakura can feel the wind ripping at her hair and clothes.
The storm whispers to her in these dreams, an ancient song of something unfamiliar reverberating in her bones. She feels the undeniable pull, insatiable hunger for something she can barely fathom stirring in her belly. Someone, somewhere beyond the storm, bellows her name, and Sakura wakes up sweaty and gasping.
The Haruno Clan hail from the East, their home has been long forgotten, but their ways were imparted to Sakura with the same fierceness that Uchiha or Hyūga taught their young. She was taught the prayers of her homeland, the customs of her clan, and above all else, she was taught about the kekkei genkai she was likely to inherit. If her mother were alive she would have been able to teach Sakura, Kizashi hadn’t inherited it himself, as it was all she had were her ancestor's journals and the basic understanding of what would come.
She could already feel the manifestation of it, being able to feel the cursed energy birthed from negative emotions was, ultimately, the smallest part of her Kekkei Genkai and yet the strangest to adapt to. Sakura found herself subconsciously drawn to people who exuded more of the energy than others, feeling oddly empowered when she was in their presence. Some of the journals warned against this, explaining that it was an experience that could border on addictive, so she always tried to ensure she didn’t cross those lines.
Everyone who developed her Clan’s kekkei genkai gained their own form of it, a cursed technique that was unique to them and them alone. As such, nothing could have prepared Sakura for the first time she saw a Yūrei, a ghost. She’d been visiting her mother’s grave, it was something she’d taken to doing after her classes for the day before she went home for more training.
“So young,” an unfamiliar voice sighed from behind where Sakura was kneeling in front of the grave, praying to her Gods and offering her respect. It was odd because most people tended to keep to themselves when they came to the cemetery, especially the Shinobi that frequented the grounds, but the man behind her was certainly a Ninja if his appearance was anything to go off of. “Too young, just like my boy. I’m so sorry.”
“Hey mister, why is there blood on your belly?” surprised grey eyes blinked down at her, the strange man’s face clearing as if he was actually seeing her for the first time. There was a pause, and then the man was slowly kneeling down so he could get a closer look at her face.
“You can see me?” the man's tone was openly incredulous, brows furrowed and hands bunched in the fabric of his pants. Sakura tilted her head to the side, reminding the man of the young Ninkin he used to train.
“Duh,” was the eloquent answer provided by the child, her own voice bordering on rude with its tone of confused disbelief. “That’s’a dumb question, mister, and you ignored my question. Shouldn’t ‘ya go to the hos-pi-tal, if ‘yer bleedin like that?”
It was cute, how she was so careful sounding out the word hospital to make sure it was pronounced correctly while insulting a supposed shinobi of her village all in one breath. It was the temperament of a child who was left on their own too often for their own good, that much he knew. Deciding to humor the slip of a girl who could somehow see him, the man smiled indulgently and nodded.
“That’s very smart of you, yes I suppose I should, but it wouldn’t matter at this point.” a soft summer breeze swept through the cemetery, ruffling Sakura’s hair and clothes. He could see the exact moment understanding lit up her bright green eyes, because his long white hair remained unchanged by the wind, as did his clothing. He realized, darkly, that this was a little genius and that there was likely no point in sugar-coating anything. After all, she was here, she already understood what death was.
“My name is Sakumo Hatake, and I’ve been dead for tweleve years.”
It seemed fitting that her kekkei genaki would awaken in the cemetery, of all places.
"There are two hundred and fifteen stances in the Haruno kata," Kizashi stood across from Sakura in their modest backyard, the high fences that blocked off their yard offered a quieter and more secluded environment than any of the training grounds. "We'll be starting you on the first ten today, and by next week you should be ready for the next ten."
A soft breeze rustled the leaves in the tree overhead, Sakumo remains unchanged where he stands beside her father.
"Hmm, there are fewer stances in the Hatake kata, I'm interested to watch." Sakura twitched, but otherwise managed to remain aloof. She wasn't quite used to seeing ghosts now, and while Sakumo was her first he hadn't been her last. Ghosts clustered the streets of Kohona, and civilians wandered aimlessly, sometimes calling out to their families. Children's ghosts spent their days running through the markets, playing the phantom games they had once played when they were alive, their absence loud in the night. Shinobi were the worst, if they noticed that she saw them, they'd follow her until they were convinced otherwise.
Sakura had been dodging the ghost of the Nidaime for a week now, much to Sakumo's amusement...he looked scary, and mean. She liked to pretend she couldn't see him, and the others. It was like a game, really.
"If you're okay with that, Sakura-chan?"
"Are you listening, Sakura?"
Kizashi and Sakumo spoke as one, jarring her from her thoughts. The child blinked owlishly at the two men before she found her feet once more and nodded.
"Hai," she slid into the first stance easily, not saying anything as her father tapped her arm and adjusted her balance. This was fine, she knew her duty to her father, and she knew Sakumo just wanted to help her. "Thank you."
She would become strong enough to make the two men proud, so they wouldn't have to worry.
As Sakura slid into the second stance, she wondered why her mama's ghost hadn't appeared yet.
She missed her.
Having a father that worked for Konoha’s Torture and Interrogation Force had a few small benefits for Sakura. Most immigrant children had a lengthy process system into the Shinobi Academy, even more so than her parents had when being initiated into the village's military force. All Sakura had to do was hand off the entry form to her dad, who passed it around to collect enough signatures from ninjas who were known for their particular line of work that the admissions board took one look at it and gave it their swift stamp of approval.
That’s how Sakura found herself enrolled in what could be considered the baby program of the Academy, which was essentially the Pre-Academy classes. It was by pure virtue that Sakura ended up in this particular class because she was technically listed as a clan heir, which meant she was shifted out of the civilian classes and in with the clan heirs of the village. It was, perhaps, a slightly higher level than the civilians were taught at but for Sakura, who had been running through kata forms and chakra exercises for as long as she’s been able to stand, she was utterly bored.
“Iruka-sensei!” the shrill voice of one Uchiha Sasuke cut through the peaceful afternoon, the tiny boy pointing accusingly at a rather smug-looking Sakura. “She called me the B word!”
Iruka fought back a sigh, saying a silent prayer for the patience dealing with the young Haruno often required. There was something about young prodigies not receiving the right amount of stimulation that made their problem become everyone’s problem.
“Motherfucker doesn’t start with a B , Uchiha-san.” Sakura said primly, dusting imaginary dirt from her shoulder with a graceful flick of her wrist that not many children her age held.
Iruka couldn't surpass the sigh, in the end. He was going to turn in the early advancement paperwork today. There was only so much of Haruno he could handle alone, and he was sure the tests wouldn't place her too far beyond her peers.
(He was, in fact, very wrong.)
Sakura naturally gravitates toward water, which is why she so often frequents the Nakano River. She knows she's technically not allowed to come here, this is Uchiha land and she's trespassing, but she really can't resist. This is where she finds him, the boy with dark hair and one eye. Sakumo isn't with her, or she'd have gotten a lecture for sticking her nose where she ought not to.
In the end, though, Sakura will never regret meeting Shisui.
He has the most cheerful deposition, despite being very notably dead. He sticks with her after she finds him in the water. There's an uproar from the Uchiha because this tiny little immigrant child found one of their own dead on their land, but eventually, they call it suicide. Shisui tells her he'll explain it all better when she's older, but in a few weeks, none of it matters anymore.
There are no Uchiha left alive to be mad that she trespassed on their land, just one small boy so full of cursed energy being near him makes Sakura feel physically ill.
The Academy really wasn't all that bad, the clan kids in her class were smarter than average civilian children. It was normal for most of them to start receiving training around the same time Sakura had. They should have, theoretically, all been on even standing when it came to their classes.
As it was, Sakura had begun to improve in leaps and bounds after meeting Shisui. Unlike Sakumo, who was firm in his belief that Sakura should strive to enjoy her childhood while she could, the Uchiha was determined to give her the means to survive in any scenario. The two ghosts had clashed over this in the beginning, but as more time passed Sakumo seemed to reluctantly agree.
They gave her tips and tricks during classes and her personal training alike, and as days turned into weeks, Sakura rose to the number one spot in every area of her classes. Except for what, that is.
Uchiha Sasuke, the frustrating little bastard that he was, still managed to outperform her in their weapons training. No matter how hard she tried or how much she practiced, she could never quite hit the bullseye. Shisui had been kind in his reassurances, apparently, Sasuke had been practicing his aim with his older brother for as long as he’d been able to walk. Apparently, Uchiha were just naturally gifted.
Naturally, this absolutely enraged Sakura. She attacked the obstacle with a newfound fury, making her ghosts demonstrate their own techniques over and over again until she could replicate them by reflex. She’s taken to training even through lunch, so set in this newfound goal as she was.
She was practicing a stance Shisui showed her when one loud blonde Yamanaka came stomping right up to her and shoved an accusing little finger against Sakura’s nose.
“Teach me how to throw like that, or else!”
There was a distinct pause, Sakura blinking slowly at the taller girl as she tried to process her demand all while Ino glared down at her with the jaunty expression only a clan-raised heir could really pull off at their age. Behind her, Shisui snorted a laugh.
“Aa,” she slumped in defeat, having the distinct impression that if she turned down Ino there would only be more trouble than it was worth next time. “Yeah, alright.”
And thus, an exuberant albeit reluctant friendship blossomed.
Apparently, becoming friends with Ino was a gateway to friendship with Shikamaru and Choji. Not that Sakura was complaining, really. The three of them were relatively peaceful individuals to be around, while Ino was the only one who trained with her— Shikamaru preferred naps and cloud watching to kata stances, and Choji was happy to snack and chat as opposed to weapons training, it made for her last few weeks in the Academy to be something passable as enjoyable.
“Is Iruka-sensei still giving you all those weird tests?” Choji was a bit hard to understand, given he was speaking with a mouthful of BBQ pork rinds.
The four of them were taken their lunch out in the hills today, enjoying the cool grass and bright sun as opposed to those who stayed indoors. Ino and Sakura were both going through their separate kata forms, and Shikamaru was seemingly napping from where he lay.
“Mm, he said I only have four left.” Sakura had three stances left, her right leg kicking high into the air before she spun in a fluid swooping motion.
Ino flopped into the grass between the boys, sweaty but shining with her success. Choji held a chip over her and happily dropped it into her mouth when she nodded enthusiastically.
“I finished first, that means I win!” Ino pumped her fist into the air, her elbow knocking into Shikamaru’s head. He let out a truly pathetic sound, reminiscent of a dog who had been stepped on and curled in on himself before shooting the blonde a reproachful look.
“You’re uncivilized,” he grossed, flicking some dirt at her nose. There was a squeak, sneeze, and then a bellow of rage as she threw herself at the Nara. Choji quickly tried to shuffle away from their impromptu wrestling match, but the choppy boy wasn’t quite fast enough.
The silence was loud as they paused, all eyes on the split chips laying in the dirt. A few little ants were already making themselves known, a line forming as they hurried toward the buffet that they’d been offered.
Choji burst into tears while Ino and Shikamaru scrambled over each other to try and offer their lunches to him. It just made things worse, the two of them pushing and shoving each other almost sparking a second fight.
Sakura shoved her bento box into Choji’s empty hands, effectively halting everything once more. Three sets of startled eyes were set on her, and a bead of sweat slid down the back of her shirt.
“I had a big breakfast,” Sakura lied, dropping down beside Choji instead of finishing her kata. “You can have mine, okay?”
The truth was, Sakura was starving. But before she’d met the three of them, she hadn’t had a single living friend. Giving up her lunch was a small price to pay, if only it made Choji smile.
“Thank you, Sakura-chan.” he sniffled, looking at her as if she’d just handed him the moon and told him she’d plucked it from the sky herself, before clumsily opening the bento.
Ino and Shikamaru finally separated, the two of them offering quiet apologies before they settled to cloud watch while Choji dig into her packed umeboshi with vigor. Silence and a blanket of peace swept over them for some time, and Sakura found herself enjoying this dynamic more than she’d thought possible.
“They’re going to move you out of our class.” Shikamaru was the one to break the silence, drawing three startled looks from them. He sighed, and mumbled something about them being troublesome. “That’s why they’re giving you the tests, they’re going to to probably bump you up to the class above ours—“
”They can’t just do that!” Ino cut him off, leaning over Choji, though being mindful of the bento, to grab and tug at Sakura’s shirt. “You can’t let them! You need to- need to flunk the rest of the tests!”
Both the boys let out outraged, surprised yells at her, but Sakura only had eyes for the blonde that was seething. Why on earth did Ino care so much?
“You can’t tell her to—“
”We just met! You’re my rival, you can’t move ahead of me so soon!”
”Ino,” Shikamaru sighed, grabbing her shoulder and tugging her back. “That’s a selfish thing to say.”
The blonde flinched and then wilted like a flower that hadn’t gotten enough sun.
“We just became friends, you can’t leave us behind.” she whispered the words after a moment’s hesitation, tears gathering in her eyes.
Sakura could barely surpass her surprise, not entirely realizing how much her attachment to her new friends was a mutual feeling. Warmth bloomed in her chest, and a small smile pulled at her lips.
“Even if we don’t graduate together, you’ll always be my first friends,” she admits with a bravado that is entirely fabricated. Sakura wraps her hand around Ino’s wrist and gave it a little squeeze. “I promise.”
As they settled back once more, she realized that while she wouldn’t miss the boring Academy classes, she would miss this.
"Team four, Kimura Ayanokoji, Lee Goro, and Haruno Sakura."
After a series of increasingly tricky tests, just as Shika had predicted, Sakura had advanced two years above her age group. Her father had been torn, he was fiercely proud that his daughter was labeled a prodigy, but he knew what a swift advancement through the ranks meant. He knew, now more than ever, that prodigies were looked at with fear after the Uchiha massacre. He also knew they really had no say in it. Sakura was the child of a first-generation immigrant, she had to serve her village to the best of her abilities in order to maintain her good standing.
She'd only been in this class for the last week of the term, just long enough to get over her nerves and to go through the graduation exams alongside the two boys who were now to be her teammates. Ayanokoji was pretty in a way that made it unfair, given the fact that he was a boy. His brown hair was long, longer than hers, and well-maintained. Precisely cut bangs framed his almond-shaped, pretty blue eyes. Goro was the exact opposite, his black hair so curly and unkept, only offset by eyebrows that were so thick they nearly covered his eyes. The boy's ugly green jumpsuit, and orange sandals (Sakura hadn't even known they could be bought in that color!) really didn't make her feel confident in the team she'd been given.
One by one, teams were collected by their new Sensei. Sakura's team was the second to last to leave the classroom, Tokuma Hyūga didn't seem excited in the slightest to be assigned Genin, but from what Sakura knew most Hyūga had the emotional range of a teaspoon so maybe she was wrong.
"Kimura Ayanokoji, age twelve, excels in genjutsu theory. Lee Goro, age twelve, excels in taijutsu. Haruno Sakura, age ten, excels in kenjutsu and taijutsu." Tokuma‘s voice was perfectly monotone, his gaze so sharp that it felt as if he could see through them. "Why do you wish to be a shinobi?"
There was a distinct pause as everyone digested the information they’d been given. Sakura could practically feel the gazes of the two boys on the side of her head. Did they expect her to go first? She hoped not.
"Maa maa, Sakura-chan," Shisui was dripping on her, forcing Sakura to shift to the right. That happened, sometimes. Not very often, but Tokuma-sensei had a particular aura of cursed energy around him. It wasn't as strong as Uchiha's, but it was strong enough for Shisui to feed off of it through her. it was, in short, annoying as hell. "This is so cute! Team bonding!"
Sakura barely surpassed a grimace.
“I want to help protect the village, and my precious people!” Goro was the first to speak, his enthusiasm practically oozing from his pores. The boy was bouncing in place, face alight with determination. He had more energy than she was used to, more than she was comfortable with. Sakura was a girl who was surrounded by the dead more so than the living, and Goro was a boy who was glowing with life.
Tokuma said nothing in response, he simply blinked. The silence stretched, and Sakura was working up the nerve to go next when-
“I want to become a diplomat, and work my way through the ranks to become the Hokage.” Ayanokoji's stance was relaxed, though there was a set to his shoulders that spoke louder than any words. The goal to become a Kage was admirable, in its own way, but it was the kind of dream that often got laughed at.
Tokuma looked at Sakura, and she actually grimaced. She should have gone first, how could she follow up to a goal like that? Compared to her teammates, she felt inadequate. If she were being honest, she wasn’t sure how to respond. Sakura hadn’t ever had the option to be anything other than a Ninja. If she was in good health, she was obligated to attend the Academy. It was one of the immigration terms Konoha held, and she’d been raised to honor it.
“I am fulfilling my obligation to the village.” the truth had to be the best route, didn’t it? Tokuma seemed to be appeased, though the boys looked...unsettled.
“Team Training begins at dawn, at noon we’ll break for lunch, from there we will fulfill the recommended amount of D-Rank missions required of our squad.” the man paused, seemingly to wait for any objections. Ayanokoji had twitched at the idea of starting so early but otherwise remained at ease. Goro was taking notes, where had he even pulled the little notepad from? “There will be weekly gear inspections, so please ensure your equipment is sufficiently cared for so you do not waste my time.”
Team four seemed like an unlikely group, but they could make it work.
Tokuma, despite how he may act, was not wholly opposed to taking a team. Most Jonin saw it as a chore, of sorts, but he preferred to view it as a mission in of itself. The future of his village was being entrusted into his hands, and it was his job to raise functional Shinobi to serve the King. He would fan the kindlings that was their Will of Fire, he would do better than his own sensei had done.
It was, in a way; a form of retribution for him. Anko and Kano had atoned in their own ways, Kano had taken a team of his own some time ago. Anko had joined T&I, though people in the village still viewed all three of them with heavy suspicion.
It was an aura of judgment he hoped his team did not feel because of their association with him.
As it was, Tokuma felt as if it was his duty to ensure his team turned out nothing like him. That was why he'd taken to following his three students after dismissing them, a clone sent after all three of them while he headed to the compound to begin his nightly routine.
一
Kimura Ayanokoji was from a civilian family, his parents and elder brother were part of a renowned merchant clan. That would explain why his kimono top was made from such fine silk, it was likely a graduation gift from his family. From what Tokuma had gathered, the only reason Ayanokoji had been allowed to chase the pipeline dream of becoming a Ninja was that he was the spare whilst his brother was the groomed heir to take over the family business.
Their house was, in short, extravagant. It was bigger than his house at the compound, which was frankly a little depressing. His family was cheerful as they greeted him, and the pleasant smell of a home-cooked meal wafted through the open window. As far as Tokuma could tell, they were perfectly normal.
He left as Ayanokoji's father was telling him how proud he was. Tokuma couldn't help but wonder if they knew just what his promotion meant, Ayanokoji would soon no longer be the cute little civilian son they raised. Not by the time Tokuma was done with him.
No, he would be a killer.
二
Lee Goro was an orphan, his records indicated that his mother had died while giving birth to him, a year later his father had died on a B-rank mission with a redacted location. He'd been placed with his aunt and uncle, but they'd perished during the Kyūbi attack. Goro and his cousin had been left in the care of the orphanage, though they had another albeit distant uncle who watched over them.
On paper, Lee Goro had every reason to not be okay. He should have been an older, edgy version of the Uchiha survivor. Instead....
"LETS CELEBRATE BY RUNNING LAPS AROUND THE VILLAGE!"
"HAI, GAI-SENSEI!"
"ON OUR HANDS, GAI-SENSEI!"
"AHAHA, THE RIVER OF YOUTH FLOWS STRONG THROUGH YOU, MY PRECIOUS NEWPEHS!" there was...so much green. So much...energy. "WHOEVER PASSES OUT FIRST, BUYS DINNER!"
Tokuma felt physically ill.
三
On record, Haruno Sakura was a prodigy. The rumor mill had gone crazy when she graduated early, they weren't in wartime but their Hokage was never one to let pawns go to waste. Haruno was brimming with potential to be molded, it was only by virtue of her father and his multitude of T&I comrades that kept the girl away from the clawed hands that would deem fit to mold her into something less favorable.
On record, she was a prodigy and perhaps she was in some areas. The girl was remarkably smart, but it was clear as day that most of her ability came from hard set training regime. Perhaps it was an insatiable drive for power that drove her, perhaps it was the cold touch of loss at an early age. Perhaps it was something else entirely.
Tokuma watched her pay her respects at the graveyard, her soft voice carrying as she detailed her new team to the well-maintained gravestone of her mother. It was indeed a sad sight to see one so young mourning in such a way that spoke of years of routine and practice. They weren't in wartime, their young shouldn't know this kind of hurt. And yet, two of his three students knew a pain that would be unfathomable to some.
He was content to dismiss the clone, but then something in Haruno shifted. She tensed, stance sliding to the left so her back was no longer to him. Surprise shot through Tokuma as jade eye snapped toward his position, and then all the tension seemed to drain from her figure. She went back to speaking to her deceased mother, and perhaps it had been nothing.
Perhaps it was something else entirely.
"If we have to catch this cat one more time, I'll skin it and turn it into a pair of winter gloves for my Kaasan." Ayanokoji's voice was greatly muffled by the yowling cat trying to scratch up his arms, though Goro was shooting him a reproachful look. Tokuma-sensei was keeping a sedated pace behind the trio, looking utterly unbothered despite his three charges being various levels of grime covered and bloodied.
"Cats are as susceptible to genjutsu as your average civilian." their sensei's voice seemed to startle the children, and beside her, Shisui snorted out a laugh. The three of them snapped to a sudden halt altogether, turning to stare at the Hyūga as if he'd grown a second head. There was a collective pause, one in which the Jonin instructor looked heavenward as if in prayer.
"Why did you wait a month to tell us that?" Ayanokoji sounded as if he was grinding his teeth together, and Shisui's laughter only increased. It seemed the dead Uchiha had a particular fondness for watching young shinobi in despair.
"Aa, Ayano-kun, I'm sure our sensei had his own reasons-"
"That's bullshit!" his male teammate's outburst had swiftly cut off Goro, and Sakura watched with vague fascination as Ayanokoji's scratched cheeks flushed with his anger. "You're supposed to teach us, how can we ever advance if you don't-"
"When you make Chunin, do you expect someone to hold your hand and walk you every step of the way?" Tokuma's voice had taken an icy quality, and the three of them froze in place. Ayanokoji's aggravated stance slowly seemed to defuse, though a bead of sweat slid down his temple to his chin. "As your Sensei, it is my job to guide you, to help build you into a healthy foundation befitting of the village you are representing."
"The Shinobi Libary never closes, at any point, you could have looked for an alternative solution to a mission that ails you so." now, all three of his Genin were looking appropriately shamefaced. That was exactly what he wanted, to show them their faults enough so that they would want to improve them. "I was fully under the impression you especially, Ayanokoji, would do this for your team."
Tokuma began walking once more, only pausing to press a hand to Ayanokoji's shoulder.
"Your team will rely on you when any matter of genjutsu is involved, just as you'll rely on them to defend you whilst you weave genjutsu on your opponents." his student's eyes sharpened as a brief moment of understanding passed between the three of them. "I believe in my students, it's up to yourselves to believe enough in one another to put in the effort for one another."
He let go of Ayanokoji and continued walking toward the Hokage tower. He knew that the three of them had the potential to rise above the coddling of the Academy, Sakura more than the others due to her lack of time spent in such an environment. Perhaps he could use her as the stepping stone for change between the three of them.
"Sheeeesh," Shisui huffed beside Sakura, one sharp eye pinned to her Sensei's back. "Who knew a Hyūga could be such a decent Sensei?"
Team Four stood at parade rest in the Hokage tower, awaiting their first-ever C-Rank mission, honestly, the three Genin could barely suppress their excitement. Sakura had been outside the walls before, but she'd been too young to remember it. As far as she knew, neither of her teammates had ever left their village, which meant this was a novelty experience for all of them.
"Let's see," smoke softly billowed out of the Hokage's pipe as he flipped through a folder, humming to himself. "Tokuma- kun, your team has completed fifteen successful D-Rank missions. I feel their success rate gives me confidence in them for this mission."
The old man withdrew a paper from the folder, stamped it, and then handed it off to one of the Chunin beside him who rose to fetch a scroll from the mission room.
"There's a town in the Natsu province that is dealing with a plague, near Sooki Falls. It should take you three days to reach the town, and we'll be giving the medic you're escorting a week to fully treat everyone and stop this plague from spreading." the Hokage paused to take another drag from his pipe, head tilting toward the door slightly. "Aa, here comes your medic now."
Moments later, the door was pushed open and a slim, grey-haired man slid in. Sakura hadn't seen anyone around her age with grey hair before, though most people hadn't ever seen someone with pink hair before, so she really couldn't be the one to judge someone based on their looks. She would, however, judge someone based on their cursed energy, and their new companion was practically oozing it from his pores.
She barely hid her flinch, but somewhere behind her Shisui actually moaned. Honestly, it was kind of gross. Then the drip drip drip started behind her, and dread pooled in her stomach. She managed to keep a mostly nonchalant face, but this grey-haired man's cursed energy, paired with the Hokages and her Sensei was almost overwhelming. There was more, cursed energy permeating through the walls, but she couldn't see it or pinpoint it. Suddenly, it was all just too much and Sakura needed out.
The Hokage was speaking again, but she couldn't hear him. She could barely breathe-
"Sakura, I...you need to calm down." she blinked Sakumo was suddenly in front of her, she could still see her Hokage through him but she was choosing to focus on the ghost instead. "There is too much cursed energy here, but it's not affecting us how you think it is. It's you, you're channeling it to us."
The cool, nonexistent weight of his hands pressed and passed through her shoulders. It grounded her, gave her something else to focus on that the energy that felt like it was shoving its way down her nostrils into her brain.
"That's right, breathe, focus on diverting the energy away from you. Cycle your chakra, just like that good-"
"Do you have any questions?" Saratobi-sama asked, wonderfully oblivious to Sakura's struggles.
She swallowed a hysterical laugh, wondering how much trouble she'd be in if she asked him to repeat everything. Instead, she simply shook her head no. She'd ask her Sensei for a recap while they traveled. They stepped out of the room and into the hallway once the Chunin threw the mission scroll to Tokuma, who caught it easily and slid it into his weapons pouch in a smooth, fluid movement.
Kabuto followed them silently, though once they were outside he bowed deeply to her team.
"My name is Yakushi Kabuto, please take care of me." he said, a pleasant smile set on his face once he rose once more. "I was granted access to your basic files, so I already know your names, but could you please...?"
"Gladly!" Goro snapped to attention, his eyes shining as if the stars themselves had suddenly manifested within his gaze. "I am Lee Goro, you may call me Goro! These are my wonderfully youthful teammates, Kimura Ayanokoji, Haruno Sakura, and our Jonin Sensei Hyūga Tokuma! We will protect you until our dying breath!"
"...Aa," Kabuto blinked, looking as if he wasn't quite sure how to deal with the energy Goro absolutely exuded. "Thank you, Goro-kun."
Tokuma-sensei coughed softly, gaining the attention of the four Genin in front of him.
"We'll be leaving at dawn tomorrow, all of you should pack for a month-long mission. Remember, it is better to be over-prepared than under-prepared...Goro, no nunchucks." Sensei waved his hand in a dismissive manner, offering a small smile to his team. "Meet me at the gate, don't be late, and don't forget your identification card."
"Hai, Tokuma-sensei!"
Sakura stood outside the cutest cat cafe in Kohona, a copy of her mission scroll held loosely in one hand, while her other hand balanced a cup of Kakigori. She'd only been here twice before, though it wasn't because she wasn't allowed. She'd had access to the cafe for years, and the first level of it was everything it ought to be.
Sakura stepped in, the staff calling out a greeting as the bells jingled delicately on the door. Cats lounged as far as the eye could see, some even taking up tables, others getting in the way underfoot, while others cuddles up to the customers. The decor was light, pink, and green, and there were so many windows that sunbeams made the well-polished floors shine brilliantly. The back of the cafe opened up to a screened patio area, and to the left were several doors that lead to lounge rooms people could reserve to relax with their favorite cats.
Koneko was advertised to Shinobi and civilians alike, it was the number one most relaxing, and renowned establishment in the village. And so, it wasn't odd to see a Shinboi, be it Genin to Jonin, requesting one of the private rooms. If anything, it was encouraged. Kohona believed in showing their civilians that their Shinobi were human too, and humans loved cute cuddly things.
"How can I help you today?" the girl behind the counter was dressed in their bright uniform, for women it was a melon green shirt, for the men it was bright pink. All of them were wearing cat ears. It was... ridiculously funny.
"Aa, snack time is at 3 o’clock, what time is it now?" Sakura titled her head, expression as bland and bored as possible. She was playing her part, the part she'd been coached in if she wanted to enter this establishment. The woman, a blonde with pupilless eyes, smiled brightly at her.
"It's two o’clock," she held up two fingers, in the imitation of a peace sign. Sakura resisted the urge to frown, maybe she should visit Ino next. "Would you like to reserve a private room until then?"
"Yes," Sakura smiled, her own eyes lighting up as a fluffy grey cat wound its way around her ankles and purred. "Only for an hour, please."
She was led into the middle room, the door locked behind them. At first glance, this room was just like the others. It was filled with plush furniture, snoozing cats, and the distinct smell of coffee.
And then the door that was embedded into the furthest wall opened, and a staircase leading to the depths of the T&I department was revealed.
"I'll see you on your way out, Haruno-san!" Yamanaka Aki had known Sakura since her father had first started working for the division, just as she knew everyone else that entered the cafe. It was part of her job, after all.
“Chichi-ue,” Sakura held up the cup of Kakigori, the melting ice dripping between her fingers and onto the grey cement floor. "I've received my first C-Rank mission."
Kizashi is wearing a stained white apron and thick black gloves that reach his elbows, but he doesn't seem the least bit bothered as he accepts the treat from his daughter, taking a bite off the top of the icy dessert. Some of the syrup smears on his cheek, smudging what she can only assume is a splatter of blood. Sakura knows better than to ask, and despite how cold her father's coworkers are used to him looking, his eyes are nothing but warm and loving as he looked down at the pink-haired girl.
"Thank you, Sakura-chan." he crouches down so they're at eye level, accepting the mission scroll when she holds it out to him.Kizashi flicks it open with ease, scanning through it quickly before nodding and handing it back to her. "I see, take the third pack instead of the second. Missions like this can be tricky, so let's overpack this time."
Sakura smiles up at him, the brightest she had yet all day, and nods enthusiastically.
She didn't really like coming to T&I, the ghosts were thick here. So thick it felt suffocating as they pushed in all around her, but it was worth it if she got to see her father.
It would always be worth it.